The package spears itself into the snowpack, leaving only a small fluorescent tag exposed on the end of it.

Open the package that was just dropped. I guarantee your safety in retrieving it. says a booming voice, from PA system from one of the SUVs.

Jess can't quite place the voice, but she's fairly certain she's heard it before.

Jess moves toward the package, approaching with utmost caution and discretion. The object is of tubular construction, probably stainless steel and resistant enough to survive a fall of a few hundred meters.
The others monitoring the situation, the welcoming party does not make any aggressive moves. Jess finds a release handle on the object's base and (reluctantly) opens it.

Inside she finds a radio. Pulling it out, she sees that it's on and already adjusted to a frequency.

Can you hear me now?, says a voice over the radio.

"I'll laugh when you're dead. Now get to the point."

Brevity. Good. We make this simple. First, show us the girl. I trust she has not come to harm since we last heard from her?

During the radio exchange, the troopers deployed from the helicopter (Brian and Elena count eight total) fan out and drop to prone positions in the clearing. Both helicopters remain hovering directly over the boathouse, their turbine wash drowning out all conversations not made via electronic device.

"The girl is fine. But you know who I want to see in exchange."

My employer thought you might want to see her. She is in the vacinity but will not comply until there are certain assurances that her daughter will make a safe exit. You will personally bring her out to the motorcade and then we will examine the possibility of a meeting.

"Oh, Katrina's ben crying for her mommy all day. Who am I to stand in the way of a family reunion?"

Jess radios Artis with the heads-up.

(Edited by Dieter at 12:25 pm on Aug. 11, 2005)

"You're not actually doing what they're asking, are you?!" Artis hisses into his mic. "They're not shooting because they don't know where the kid is. You confirm her location and they wipe us all out."

Jess mutes the enemy-supplied radio, then uses the team's headset.

"Well, do you think you can take those guys?"

(Edited by Gatac at 9:15 pm on Aug. 1, 2005)

Art moves toward the procured SUV with the fake duffelbag in tow. He jumps in and turns the key...nothing. The vehicle struggles to turn over, its starter clicking without result. He pops the hood and frantically begins to assess the problem as Sam's forces realize a ruse is in play, with the ground units in the northern field standing up and begin marching in a skirmish line towards the boathouse.

The doors on the front two vehicles of the motorcade open, deploying at least half a dozen men in the process. They take up defensive positions using the SUV doors as cover.

You are to show the child immediately and release her, otherwise things will get...messy!, barks the voice over the radio.

Meanwhile, Art looks under the hood and discovers the problem. Engines work better when the wires to the distributor cap aren't cut.

Fuck this.

Jess presses the transmit button on her headset.

"On my sign - unleash hell."

Signalling Art to get back behind cover, she keys the enemy radio.

"You didn't say please...hard to believe Samantha would hire such an impatient asshole like you to lead the negotiations. I guess I'll just have to tell little Cathy that Mommy doesn't love her after all. You'd better shape the fuck up, or I guarantee you that the last twitch of my finger will spread the kid all over Siberia."

You are in no position to be dictating terms. You are outnumbered and outflanked. One word from me and your entire group gets gunned down and left for the wolves. I now ask again...for the last time. Show me the girl or face the consequences.

Elena is close enough to hear the radio, she chirps in before things get dicey.

"Eh. I'm not trained in nego-nego...talking to people to people nicely, but I -can- tell you that Russian Mafiya do not give you last warning unless they are ready to commit."

"You just punched your ticket."

Jess drops the radio, then punches her headset.

"Sign!"

The area erupts with rifle cracks, putting down several of the skirmishers in the process. Around the motorcade, the goons open up on the boathouse with assorted small arms and submachinguns. Elements of the skirmish line provide covering fire as the detachment leapfrogs south towards the boathouse.

Gorram fracking...&#%^%!^^@

Artis pulls out a crushed roll of duct tape from his cargo pants and begins doctoring the SUV's engine. Within in seconds, he's got the problem licked and is inside the vehicle. He closes his eyes and turns the key...the truck's engine roaring back to life with a healthy belch of blue smoke from its tailpipe.

(Edited by Dieter at 12:25 pm on Aug. 11, 2005)

The SUV struggles to dig itself out of the snowpack, but a couple gear changes puts the vehicle out on to the road. Artis accelerates, taking out one of the skirmishers as he attempts to leave the scene with Katarina. He gets up to the motorcade, turning off the road and proceeding as the gunman light up the vehicle, their bullets spiderwebbing the driver's side windows and quarterpanels.

At the boathouse, things are getting dicier. Dropping another soldier, Brian reports that the remaining skirmishers are encircling the building.

Carla, being mindful of Peter, sees that one of the helicopters is pulling away while the other remains hovering over the boathouse. She takes a pot-shot at the chopper's windscreen.

Her bullets go wide as Peter lays low and keeps the skirmishers heads down with assorted small arms fire.

Inside the boathouse, Jess and the others are contending with a near-hopeless siege.

As Jess fires wildly at everything hostile, she shouts into the tacmike.

"Hold the line!"

I wonder if we'd still sing the praises of the guys at the Alamo if they'd actually survived it.

Shots fired at the boathouse seem deliberate and exact, most likely due to fear of hitting Katarina.

"They seem to just be suppressing our fire. Save your ammunition. Head shots only!" commands Nightengale, checking his ammo reserves.

Artis pulls around the parked motorcade and back on to the paved road. He gets as far as the end of tree rows, seeing another SUV come careening in from the passenger side. The attempted t-bone is all-but foiled as Artis punches the accelerator, thus avoiding the full-on collision and only having right rear quarterpanel smashed. The impact is enough to spin his vehicle about, but Artis is able to keep his course down the road.

Through his rear mirror, Artis can see that the opposing SUV is in a small ditch on the left side of the road and is turning about in apparent pursuit. The passenger-side window is rolled down and a shooter opens fire. Two bursts stitch the back window, blowing it out in the process.

"Kate, you still alive back there? Mumble if you're OK!" Artis shouts behind him as he continues his merry chase away from the gunfight. "You know, your mother is a bad, bad person. She's an international crimelord and an evil whore - do you even know who your father is? Nevermind, answer that later..." Art keeps his mouth going as he plows through another pile of snow, trying to create a stinging smokescreen of ice and snow to throw off his pursuers' collective aim.

Caught in a maelstrom of gunfire, mayhem, and struggle, Carla is really only at peace in moments like this.

"Suck it down, bitches!" She shouts, bouncing, tumbling, and otherwise moving about the battlefield in a shifty manner. Hearing a warning that an extended battle could be in the offing, she refrains from popping shots for no reason. All the better reason to start knifing people if possible.